


Cold Hands, Warm Heart

by pervyfangirl



Series: The Hero and the Quartermistress [2]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: But mostly porn, F/M, Fingerfucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex, okay maybe a tiny bit of plot, shameless orange flight-suited dirty sweaty porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7834240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pervyfangirl/pseuds/pervyfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke comes back from a mission that's gone bad with one single thought on his mind: you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Hands, Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightsidecalling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsidecalling/gifts).



> I didn't quite mean to create an actual character while writing these, but the quartermaster character from Clothes Make the Man has kind of stuck with me, so here she is again, for you to put yourself in her shoes. Or you can put yourself in Luke's shoes, I wouldn't blame you for that either.

The problem with being assigned to the quartermaster’s office is that you spend a lot of time saying goodbye. Sometimes if you’re lucky, you get to say hello again, but mostly—goodbye. In the year since Yavin 4, you’ve risen in rank twice, and jumped between secret bases more times than you can keep track of. You’ve also lost count of how many times you’ve had to say goodbye to Luke Skywalker. Even after nearly a year, there isn’t a word for what you and Luke are to each other. Friends, sure, but more than that, as often as you wind up in each other’s beds. 

Missions—most of which he can’t tell you anything about—take him away from wherever the rebels are holed up on a nearly weekly basis. But he’s always come back. 

Not this time, it seems. Your friends don’t know how to speak to you about it. The base on Hoth is cold and busy and nervous, everybody always on the move, and that includes you. There aren’t as many new recruits these days, not here in this frozen hell, but you’re still tasked with making sure that everyone has what they need to stay alive and warm.

Finding dress clothes for a lost Tatooine farmboy was much, much easier.

And now Luke is over a week coming back from his latest mission. Everyone fears the worst. You’ve seen so many pilots go out and never come back, you should know how this goes by now, but it’s the uncertainty. And it’s _Luke_. The idea that you might never see him smile again? It’s unfathomable. The universe, as cruel as it is, could never be that cruel.

And with that thought you realize just what form your feelings have taken. Obvious in hindsight, and possibly too late. 

You’re in the mess, gulping down a midday meal that’s tasteless but at least it’s hot, listening to one of your friends, a radio operator, complain about some of the pilots who’ve been rude to her. As you’re nodding along, listening as best you can despite the low ache you’ve been carrying in your chest for days, one of the flight crew ducks into the mess, looking for someone. He sees you, and beckons for you.

When you get to him, all he’ll say is, “You need to go to the hangar bay. Now.”

The hangar bay is scrambling with activity, more activity than makes sense to you. It all comes clear when a familiar X-wing glides through the open hangar doors. Your heart pounds hard in your chest, your hands curling into nervous fists. You hang back, not sure what your place here is, really. Someone had the presence of mind to come get you, but…

Luke climbs out of the cockpit, moving tiredly but looking none the worse for wear. He pulls off his helmet, shaking the damp, sweaty hair from his eyes as he looks around the hangar. Several people call his name and he smiles and yells back before jumping over the edge of the cockpit and climbing down. 

You feel more awkward than ever, standing alone, until you see him going on his toes, looking past the group of pilots and engineers that have surrounded him to welcome him home.

He sees you, and his face lights up. He calls your name, shaking off the other pilots and weaving through them toward you. First he picks up speed, then he’s running, and everyone is looking in your direction. 

Luke reaches you with a mad grin on his face and scoops you up, spinning you around. This is—well it’s never happened before. What’s going on?

“I missed you.” He leans in and kisses you hard, right there in front of everyone—and it’s not that you’ve kept anything a secret, but this—again—is new.

“I missed you too,” you admit. “I was worried, what happened?”

“I’ll tell you later. Get me out of here before someone tries to steal me off for a briefing or something, will you?”

You hear the hoots of laughter from behind you as you flee the hangar hand in hand. He’s left his gloves and helmet behind, but otherwise is still dressed for flying. You’re not sure where you’re heading, but he pulls you into an empty, narrow side corridor, tucked away from all the traffic. Before you can ask him anything, he pushes you up against the icy wall with his body, looking into your eyes with an intensity you feel all the way down to your toes.

The two of you come together in a sharp, starving kiss on an unspoken accord and his arms go around your waist, one hand dipping down to slide over the curve of your ass.

When you get a chance to breathe, you say, “Luke—what—”

“Told you.” He trails kisses over your jaw, then down your neck, pushing your hair and your uniform coat collar away. “Missed you. Gods, I missed you. You were all I could think about.”

He’s come back from missions eager for you before, but never like this. 

His hands slide beneath your coat, moving up to cup your breasts through the other layers of clothes as he comes back to your mouth again, sucking your tongue into his mouth before chasing it back into yours. His thumbs are harsh over your nipples and he swallows down your resulting groan. With his hands roaming your body, you put your arms around his neck and pull him in close, breathing him in with each kiss. He smells of hot metal and clean sweat, the ozone smell of too much time in closed cockpit. He smells like every time he’s come back to you alive and in one piece and it feels as if you could burst out of your skin with wanting.

Luke leans back from you, because he knows you, he always knows you. He leaves just enough room between your bodies for him to ease his hand down your belly, slipping it between your legs as he comes back in for another kiss, his free hand curling around the base of your skull. All you can feel through three layers of cold-weather clothing is the pressure of his fingers rubbing your clothes against you. No matter how much you part your legs, it’s not enough, just a faint, teasing sensation that makes you want to scream in frustration. 

It registers in your mind that you’re not anywhere private, just in a side hallway. If this is going to continue, you’d be smarter to maybe try to drag Luke back to your quarters, or his, or hell, a supply closet. But then he bites at your lower lip and unfastens your top layer of pants, giving him just enough room to slide his fingers down your bare belly, his skin cold from the base’s frigid temperatures. You gasp, both from the chill and at his boldness, and you feel him smiling against your mouth.

“Want me to stop?” he murmurs against your lips. 

You should say yes. The smart thing would be to say yes.

“No, don’t stop.”

“Didn’t think you did.” His fingers quickly warm beneath your layers of clothing, against your burning hot skin. Now when you part your legs for him, his fingers dip between your lips, trailing through the dampness he’s caused with his touch, with his mouth on yours. He rests his forehead against yours and groans, wriggling his hand until his fingertips barely brush against your clit. “I love how you get so wet, so fast.” His voice is a low, sweet murmur that travels straight through your body from your ears down to where his fingers tease against you. 

“That’s your fault.” You catch his head between your hands and kiss him, because if he keeps talking you’re going to be a loud, writhing mess much too soon. You feel him shake with suppressed laughter, because he _knows_ what it does to you when he talks to you, but he lets you off the hook for now, focusing his attention on pushing his hand further down your pants. You whimper against his mouth as his middle finger brushes against your opening, the tip just barely dipping inside you as your hips jerk forward.

He can’t resist pulling away to speak, “Are you sure? Someone could show up any minute…” And blast him and his wicked little smile as he threatens to pull his hand away. You grab onto his forearm, keeping his hand where it is, and his smile widens. 

You smile with a challenge of your own. “Then you’d better hurry, Commander.”

He laughs, delighted, and pulls you back to kiss. The feel of his tongue in your mouth is so sweet, but sweeter still is the way his finger slides into you, setting you on fire with the long, slow stroke. His mouth blocks your moan, but he stops kissing you long enough to hush you anyway. “Stay quiet or I’ll stop.”

Staying quiet is nearly impossible. Luke has two fingers working in and out of you with agonizing slowness, his thumb brushing over your clit every stroke or two. You bite your lips to keep your sounds in, helplessly rocking against his hand. He stops kissing you in favor of watching your face. As your eyes flutter open and closed, you get glimpses of how intensely focused he is on you, watching your reactions as his fingers thrust and twist and curl, a third finger joining the first two. 

Voices approach from the nearby corridor, but Luke doesn’t stop, driving his fingers into you a little faster still, as if daring you to stay quiet as the pleasure builds deep inside you.

All it would take is one of those people to glance down the side corridor… there’d be no way to hide what you’re doing…

You bury your face against his neck and try to tune out the voices that are almost right there now, trying to focus on nothing but his hand, his fingers—those nimble, talented fingers—filling you and stroking every sensitive spot they know so well. The voices get louder—you recognize the voice one of the deck officers, he came in last week to replace his gloves—and Luke’s hand moves faster. He’s—oh gods there’s no other word for it—he’s fucking you relentlessly with his fingers. In retaliation, you bite at his neck, not painfully so, but with just enough pressure that you feel him shudder and even through his flight suit you can feel him pressing hard against your thigh. 

The voices start to get more distant, but Luke doesn’t slow down, driving you closer and closer to coming around his fingers. 

“You’re close, I can feel it. Let go,” he coaxes softly. 

Again you press your mouth to his neck, trying to keep quiet as the pleasure builds hot and fast in your belly. He slows, just enough to let him focus his thumb brushing over your clit a little more directly. It hits you in a rolling, tumbling wave, threatening to knock your feet out from under you. Luke helps you stay upright, kissing you when you threaten to get too loud. You pulse and twitch around his fingers as the last of your orgasm slowly fades, leaving you with the blood pounding in your head and your arms and legs trembling. 

Luke draws his fingers out of you so slowly, but it still feels like a loss. Carefully, tenderly, he refastens the pants he opened, then leans in and kisses your cheek. But then… then he licks off his fingers, one at a time, closing his beautiful blue eyes in bliss at the taste of you on his skin.

“Wow,” you manage, with a shaky laugh. “I don’t know what happened out there, but that was a hell of a hello.”

When he opens his eyes, his smile is gentle. “It’s a long story, and one I should probably go tell Leia and the General first before they send someone to come find me and drag me in.” He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone. “I had a lot of time to think about things, about what’s important.” He kisses your mouth softly. “I’ll find you after they’re through with me. I’ll tell you then.”

“Meet me in my quarters. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll try to make this the fastest debriefing ever.” Luke’s smile flashes to something supernova bright, then he’s gone with another short kiss. You’re left wondering what the hell just happened, and what’s about to happen, with a growing bubble of happiness sitting in your chest.


End file.
